Choices
by Sara T Potter
Summary: Against the backdrop of a case involving a murdered school teacher, Sara and Grissom must decide if Sara's date with Greg with help or hurt Sara and Grissom's feelings for each other.
1. Prologue

Note: I do not own any of these characters or anything from CBS's show CSI. I am simply a fan writing for fun!

This is my first story, and it is half complete as of right now. Please R&R!

* * *

Prologue 

She replayed the scene in her head as she drove to the restaurant:

"_Hey Sara. That's a nice shirt you're wearing there," Greg stuttered. _

"_Thanks Greg. You know I've worn this many times before," Sara replied._

"_Yes, but you look particularly stunning in it today. You are always stunning."_

"_Well, thank you."_

_Greg stood up from his seat in the break room, and stood in front of her_

"_Sara, can I ask you a question?" _

"_I think you just asked one." She was trying to break the tension that was thick in the air._

"_You know what I mean. Sara, we've known each other for a while now, right?"_

"_Yes, Greg. I guess it's been about five or six years. Well, I might not call it 'knowing' you as much as 'putting up with' you." They both laughed. Greg seemed to relax._

"_Well then, I was thinking that we could celebrate how long you've been 'putting up with' me over some excellent Italian food at Perrono's."_

"_Are you asking me out, Greg?"_

"_I think that is the question at hand here, yes."_

_She was silent for a minute, and noticed the look of discomfort and the anticipation in his eyes._

"_Sure, I guess. Why not? Let's celebrate our friendship outside of the lab. Is Friday night good?"_

"_Friday night sounds great … I'll pick up at 8!" Greg was ecstatic, and he practically skipped out of the break room._

Sara Sidle couldn't believe that she had accepted Greg's offer. Her momentary lapse in judgment had come from her personal decision to be more friendly and social, especially at the office. Things had been kind of rough for the past two years or so, as she had to deal with her personal demons. But she had promised herself that she would open up and let people in. Letting Greg in had presented itself, so she had taken the opportunity. No big deal, Greg was a nice enough guy. How bad could it be to go out on one little date?

* * *

Very bad. Greg met Sara at Perrono's in an Einstein tie and wore sneakers with his suit. He spent the whole night complimenting every aspect of her – "You look great in that skirt," "Your hair looks nice tonight," "You have excellent Italian pronunciation skills, you are so multitalented!" She was so sick of it all by the end of the night, he was obviously trying too hard to impress her. 

However, Sara could have written off Greg's excessive compliments as nervousness. What she couldn't overlook were the little things. Like how he didn't know which silverware to use, how he didn't open the door for her, how he brought up politics on the first date, and, worst of all, how he had the waiter split the bill!

"Am I being too picky?" she wondered, "Is Greg really a great guy and I'm just not letting myself have a good time?"

Her question was answered when Greg dropped her off at her house later that evening.

"Thank you for a fun evening, Greg. I had a great time."

"I did too. It was nice to see you outside of work. Do you want to go out again sometime?"

Sara thought. Did she want to go out with him again? Did Greg deserve another chance? Did she deserve another chance? She didn't know. She panicked. There he was, standing there, and she didn't know what to say. She didn't want to lie to him, but she didn't want to hurt his feelings. In her haste to find an answer, she did the only thing that came to mind.

She kissed him. Square on the lips, she pulled Greg to her and kissed him.

"Wow, Sara," Greg whispered. His face lit up. "Do you want to ask me upstairs? Maybe ask me in for a cup of coffee?" he asked, slyly.

Sara's mind snapped back to reality. This was the Greg she knew, and this was the Greg that she did not want to be in a relationship with.

"I don't think that's such a good idea. I have to get up early in the morning and get a head start on all the stuff I've got to do this weekend."

He looked disappointed. "Okay, well, I guess I'll see you at work on Monday, then?"

"Sure thing," she nodded, and watched him retreat to his car. She went inside and watched him drive off. She pressed her forehead against the door, and watched her breath make clouds on the glass as she breathed a sigh of relief. Never again would she endure an evening like that, not even for the sake of socialization. Greg Sanders was not the man for her.


	2. Mr Mason

West Las Vegas High School was quiet. The students had mostly left for the day, and any staying after school were outside enjoying the warm spring weather. The soccer team was just beginning its warm up laps around the track, and the drama club was in the parking lot painting sets for the upcoming musical.

He sat in the classroom, buried in the pile quizzes that he had to grade. It had been a long afternoon so far, and he was glad to be finally getting down to work while he waited for her. The eerie silence that filled the school didn't bother him, he was glad to finally have some peace and quiet to help him concentrate. Concentration was all it took to get through the stack of papers in front of him. He picked up his red pen and began to mark the papers, carefully examining each answer and recording the final grades in his disorganized grade book.

Halfway through first period's papers, he realized how warm the room was. The nice day outside let the sunlight pour into the room, and the temperature had risen to the point where he was rather uncomfortable. He rose from the desk and went to open the classroom door, letting in the breeze from the hallway.

"I wish this damn place had windows that you could actually open," he muttered. In his desire to avoid getting back to grading the papers, he noticed that his whiteboard needed to be erased. So he picked up the eraser and began pushing it back and forth across the board, watching the algebra problems from that morning disappear.

He heard a rustle behind him and felt the bullet pierce through his back. Crying out, he dropped to the floor. Blood pooled around him. Everything went black.

* * *

Sara Sidle and Gil Grissom walked into the classroom at West Las Vegas High School, and immediately saw a sandy-haired man lying on his back in a pool of blood. He was a medium build and was dressed in a jacket and tie, which were covered in the burgundy liquid. 

Lieutenant Brass gave them the basic details: "His name is Robert Mason, thirty-seven years old. Suffered from a gunshot wound to the back, and he was dead on arrival. The principal noticed him when she came in to check his lesson plans for the week, and she's says she turned him over to check his vitals. Then she called 911."

"Where is the principal now?" asked Grissom.

"She's in the hallway giving her statement to my guys," Brass answered, "And none of my men touched anything on the scene, so don't worry. You can take it from here, I assume?"

"Yes, as soon as Greg gets here we'll start processing the scene. Thank you, Brass." Brass walked out of the classroom, nodding.

"Sara, why don't you go talk to that principal while I get started in here and wait for Greg," Grissom directed.

"Sure, I'll be back in a bit."

* * *

She was glad to avoid Greg as much as possible, even if it was just temporarily while she questioned the witness. Avoiding him was tough in her situation, since they worked together so often. Their bad date just kept playing in her head, and she had no clue how she was going to get things back to normal with him again. 

Two of Brass's policemen were just thanking the principal for her statement when Sara stepped into the hallway. The woman looked to be in her late forties. She had dark brown hair streaked with gray, and was wearing grey pantsuit with black pumps. The pantsuit was stained with blood, likely the victim's. Sara noted that she had the typical "principal" look, with oversized glasses attached to a beaded chain that dangled by her ears.

"She's all yours," said the female officer, winking at Sara while snapping her gum. Sara hated people who winked, it was strange and unprofessional.

"Hello, ma'am, my name is Sara Sidle and I'm from the Las Vegas crime lab. Can I have you name, please?" Sara got out her tape recorder and began recording the conversation.

"My name is Janine Pritchard. I've been the principal here at WLVHS for twenty-two years, and I've never had anything like this happen here before! This is crazy! That this would happen at MY school! Who would want to do this to Robert? He was such a good teacher! All the students were crazy about –"

Sara cut her off, "Ms. Pritchard, let's start from the beginning. What happened when you found the body?"

"Okay, well, I was going from room to room checking the teachers' lesson plans like I always do on Monday afternoons. I walked into Robert's room and I just saw him lying there in a huge pool of blood! I've taken First Aid training over and over, so I knew to check his pulse to see if he was still alive or if he needed help. Oh, it was so scary! In all my years, I've never had to actually use that training! I was so scared! I wasn't sure if I was doing it right, because I couldn't get a pulse at all and I didn't want him to be dead! I kept shaking his body hoping he'd wake up, but I finally noticed that he definitely wasn't breathing. So I used the classroom phone to call 911."

"Alright, Ms. Prichard. How was the victim when you found him?"

"He was in front of the whiteboard, on his stomach with blood all around him. So much blood!"

"And was there anything unusual about the room when you went in? Was the door to the room open or closed?"

"The door was wide open, but I didn't really notice anything unusual about the room. It looked like someone had just walked in, shot him, and walked back out."

"Okay, did you hear anything or see anyone suspicious while you were checking lesson plans?"

"I didn't hear anything at all, that's the strange thing. Everyone was outside, the building was surprisingly empty because it's such a nice day outside. I only saw a few people around, but not anyone suspicious."

"Who did you see?"

"Well, I saw Danielle Taylor in the upstairs hallway; she was headed out of the restroom. She said she was staying after for some extra help. I also saw her mother, Mrs. Taylor, in the office lobby on her cell phone. I assume she was looking for Danielle. Mrs. Umberto and Mrs. Kelley were the only other teachers that we still left in the classrooms, all of the others had split early for a conference across town. All of the other students were outside with their club advisors and coaches, who gave a statement to the police saying that all of their students were accounted for."

"Thank you for your time, Ms. Pritchard. You are free to go." Ms. Pritchard nodded and walked down the hall to the front office.

* * *

Sara had heard Greg come in while she was giving the interview, and she dreaded going back in that room. Normally she loved working with Grissom and Greg, but today it wasn't going to be much fun. Well, working with Grissom would still be great. She smiled thinking about Grissom, and how he would always have a bug fact or two to share with the team. However, she caught herself as she walked in the door. She didn't want Greg to think the smile was for him. 

"Hey guys," she said, walking into the room.

"What'd you find out from the principal?" Grissom pondered.

"Not much, just that there were very few people in the building during the time of the murder. There were two teachers on the second floor, but police said that they checked out there's a security camera on the second floor that showed both of them working on a bulletin board for the past two hours. There was also a mother and daughter, neither of whom was in the main hallway, so they didn't get caught on the security cameras. So our killer is either one of those two or someone who came in from outside."

"Is there a security camera on this hallway?"

"No, it's been broken for some time and the school system hasn't had the money to fix it."

"Well it was likely someone he knew. People don't just walk into a school and kill someone, there's too high a risk of being caught. This guy must have an enemy, that's for sure."

Sara noticed Greg staring at her. They hadn't spoken a word to each other yet, and that was no accident. She was directing all of her knowledge to Grissom and desperately trying to avoid Greg's gaze.

"So, umm, what's going on in here?" she asked.

Greg perked up, "There's nothing very exciting yet, we were looking for any evidence that the shooter even went beyond the doorway. But it's tough in a room like this, because there are prints everywhere. There's no way to narrow down if they are the prints of students or of a killer "

"Or both," Grissom added in, "There are going to be hundreds of prints on this room, and the only prints that we can use are the ones on the doorknob. They'll probably come back as the vic's, though. Nothing else in this room is unusual or can be used as evidence."

"It looks like he was in the middle of erasing the board. He was shot in the back by surprise!" Sara noticed.

"That's my assumption as well," Grissom agreed.

"Mine too," Greg chimed in. Grissom and Sara both looked at him.

"I guess there's not much we can do here. We've documented the scene, let's go down to the lab to see about these fingerprints, test the distance the bullet was shot from, and have a talk with our mother and daughter to see if they know anything."

"Sounds good to me, boss," cheered Greg.


	3. Questions

When they got back to the lab, Grissom and Sara both went in to interview the Danielle Taylor, who had been seen by Mrs. Pritchard in the upper hallway of the school. While they stood waiting for the police to bring her in, Grissom looked at Sara. Sara looked distant, like something was on her mind. She had been like that since the beginning of the shift, and he thought that maybe something had happened with Greg. Grissom had heard that Greg and Sara had gone out on Friday, and he was hopeful that maybe it hadn't worked out so well...

"Miss Taylor is ready, you guys can go in now," the office told them. Grissom and Sara stepped into the room.

"Danielle, my name is Sara Sidle and this is Gil Grissom. We're from the crime lab, and we just want to ask you a few questions about this afternoon."

Sara sat down at the table, resting her arms delicately on the table. She looked straight at Danielle. Danielle was fifteen years old, a sophomore at the school. She had long brown hair, long curled eyelashes, and looked about five years older than she was. She was wearing a green, low cut top that accentuated her curves, and a black mini-skirt that showed off her long, tanned legs. Grissom couldn't believe that this girl was in high school, or that any mother would let her daughter dress in such a way.

"I already told the police that I was upstairs on the second floor because I was getting extra help in English and we took a break for a few minutes. That's when I saw Mrs. Pritchard. She can tell you I was upstairs when it happened!"

"Yes, she told us that she saw you. So who exactly were you seeing for extra help?"

"Mrs. Smith."

"And you didn't go anywhere else in the building while you were there? Did you ever go down near Mr. Mason's room for anything? Anything at all?"

"No, I had my tutoring, went the bathroom, and went down the back staircase to meet my mom."

"All right Danielle, that's all we need to know for now, thank you." Grissom dismissed the young girl and the police went to go bring in Mrs. Taylor.

"Grissom?" Sara asked, looking directly into his eyes. She had such beautiful, deep brown eyes. He had rarely ever really looked into them. She was always so busy avoiding him, so he just stared. Stared into those portals to whatever lay so deep inside of Sara. All of her thoughts and feelings and dreams were in those eyes. He wanted to know everything, everything in those eyes. Maybe there was even something in there for him…

"Grissom? What's wrong with you today? I mean, I thought I was out of it, but you are just … Grissom!"

He snapped out of his daze. "Yes, Sara? Sorry, I had a long weekend."

"Don't worry, I did, too. I guess both of us are a little hazy today. But I'm not hazy enough to miss the fact that Danielle Taylor is obviously lying to us. She says she was seeing Mrs. Smith for help in English, but we already know that there were only three teachers in the building at the time. Mrs. Pritchard gave us the list from the conference, and all of the other teachers signed in."

At that moment, the police came in with Mrs. Taylor. She sat across from Grissom and Sara at the table, glaring at them. Mrs. Taylor did not look that different from Danielle. She was slightly more subtle in a pencil skirt and a half unbuttoned white shirt, and she wore black stilettos and thick-rimmed black glasses. She looked angry.

"Why have you guys been holding me and my daughter up like this? We didn't do anything! I don't even own a gun, I never have. Neither has my daughter! We want to go home, why can't you guys leave us alone?"

"We are very sorry, Mrs. Taylor," Grissom apologized, "This is just procedure. We need to rule you and your daughter out as suspects. Why were you at the school this afternoon?"

"I was picking up my daughter. She was supposed to be in tutoring with Mr. Mason. She's been having a lot of trouble in algebra lately, and he agreed to stay after to help her pull her grade up."

Grissom and Sara looked at each other. This was not following the statements that Danielle had given.

"Mrs. Taylor, your daughter told us that she was staying for English help with Mrs. Smith," Sara explained.

"Oh. Well maybe she was getting help with Mrs. Smith. I don't know. She just told me that she had taken a break from the tutoring and had gone to the restroom to reapply her makeup, and there was a lot of commotion about Mr. Mason's death when she emerged."

"She couldn't have been staying after with Mrs. Smith because we have proof that Mrs. Smith was at a conference across town this afternoon."

"What are you saying? That my daughter did this? My daughter is not a murderer! Even if she was working with Mr. Mason, that doesn't mean that she killed him! Mrs. Pritchard saw her outside of the restrooms!"

Grissom jumped in, "We aren't saying that your daughter killed anyone. Tell me, have you noticed any unusual behavior in your daughter lately? Is lying a pattern with her? What might she have been up to this afternoon besides studying?"

Mrs. Taylor thought for a minute, "Well, there was something. But I hope it's not relevant to this case. I shouldn't even mention it, but I found condoms under her bathroom sink a few weeks ago while I was cleaning it. I didn't know what to make of it, but suddenly she was going after school quite often for extra help in algebra. She's always had trouble in algebra. She was staying two or three times a week. But I never saw her do a bit of homework at home."

"What exactly do you think was going on?" Sara asked.

"I don't know. I don't know why I even let myself think it. I certainly didn't want it to be true. But I think that she was…you know…giving favors to Mr. Mason in order to raise her grade. I think she was having sex with him. He seems exactly like the kind of man who would do that, you know. And my daughter, well, she's always been a bit mature for her age…"

"Well, Mrs. Taylor, we don't want to jump to any conclusions yet. But I can assure you that we'll try to get to the bottom of this find out exactly what happened. Thank you for you time." Grissom and Sara stood as the officer led Mrs. Taylor out of the room.

* * *

Sarah walked ahead of Grissom to the office at the end of the hall. She was wearing long, black pants that fit close, but not too close. Grissom could see the curves of her tall, slender body as she moved, and her hair kind of bounced as she walked down the hall. 

"An outfit like that is so much sexier than a short skirt or anything that Mrs. Taylor and her daughter were wearing," Grissom thought, "But maybe it's not the outfit, maybe it's the woman in the outfit…"

The arrived at the office and began filling out the paperwork that Greg had laid out for them while he had gone over to the morgue. Grissom began filling out the mindless reports, glancing at Sara on occasion to see if he could find her eyes again. He wanted to look into those beautiful eyes.

Suddenly it hit him. He had always been in love with Sara, since their days back in San Francisco when he was her teacher. He had always loved her, but it wasn't until now that he realized that he might lose her. She had dated before, but Grissom knew that none of those relationships would last. He knew they were nothing serious. But now Sara had gone out with Greg. Greg, who was genuinely a good guy. Grissom would recommend him for any woman because he was smart, funny, attractive… he would recommend Greg for any woman except Sara. He liked Greg, he loved Sara, and he didn't want to lose Sara to such a great guy…not yet. He had to find out how their date went. But he had to frame it in such a way that it seemed like ordinary office chat coming from her supervisor…

"Hey, Sara?"

"Yeah, Gris?" He liked it when she called him 'Gris.'

"I heard that you went out with Greg the other night. Is that true?"

"Wow, news sure does travel fast around here. Yes, Greg and I went out on Friday night. He took me to Perrono's for dinner."

"Ah, and I assume you had a good time? Greg is a nice guy." He could smack himself for adding that, but he had to find out how she felt.

"It was alright."

"So will you be seeing him again? Do we have to worry about an office romance here? Because that is something this lab has never faced before."

"To tell you the truth, Gris, there won't be a second date. Greg is a nice enough guy. In fact, he's a great guy. I like being friends with him. But he's a little big eager and immature for me. I need someone who's a bit more…down-to-earth." She looked at Grissom. Her eyes! He was looking directly into her eyes for the second time that day. Before he could read anything from them, she looked at the clock.

"We've got to get moving on this paperwork. Let's try to get it done before Greg comes back with the results from the fingerprints on the doorknobs," she stammered. She looked back down at the paper and began to write again. Grissom picked up his pen and held it, but he couldn't take his eyes off Sara. She was so attractive, concentrating on the paperwork with her hair falling over her face. He longed to reach out and touch her, something he had never felt so strongly before. Why was this coming over him so strong and so suddenly? He smiled, knowing that he still had a chance…if he could ever make a move…


	4. Like Mother, Like Daughter

"Well, guys, I have lots of good information for you," Greg stormed into the room with a handful of papers.

"Did you find the results on the fingerprints?" Grissom inquired.

"Indeed I did, and much more! The fingerprints on the door are from our victim, so they are of no help to us, unfortunately. The only thing they tell us is that the victim was the last person to touch the doorknob, meaning that the door was likely open at the time of the crime. This brings me to the next discovery, the bullet. Based on ballistics' analysis of the body and the bullet, your bullet was shot from fifteen to seventeen feet away, and our body was found sixteen feet from the doorway. We are still looking for the gun, it could be anywhere in Vegas, but it's doubtful we'll ever find it without finding the killer first. On the bright side, however, I did run a search on Mrs. Taylor's records and found some information that you might find very interesting…"

"What's that, Greg," Grissom said, looking very tired with the direction the evidence was going.

"Well, it seems that Mrs. Taylor has a dirty little past of her own. She was enrolled in Illinois State University years ago, but her official record states that she was forced to leave the University due to an honor court hearing where she was found guilty of having adult relations with her professor in order to raise her grades."

"But that's the same thing she accused her daughter of doing!" Sara gasped.

"Like mother like daughter," Grissom responded.

* * *

"So, Mrs. Taylor, tell us about your time at Illinois State University," Sara began, sitting down at the table next to Grissom and across from Mrs. Taylor.

"I guess you checked my file. I figured that would come up at some point. I was having trouble with chemistry during my junior year and my professor offered to push my grade to an A if I would keep him sexually satisfied throughout the semester. I didn't have a boyfriend at the time, and I needed that A, so I took him up on the offer. It was his idea, not mine, and the sex was mediocre. But my roommate, who was not an attractive girl, was jealous that I was making an A in that class so easily, so she followed me one night and turned me in. I was found guilty and had to leave the school. So I guess it wasn't really worth it."

Grissom continued, "Well this is an interesting twist on our case, Mrs. Taylor. I bet it made you angry when you found out that your daughter might be doing the same thing you did. I bet you were concerned that she'd get kicked out of school, just like you did. You might have even been mad enough to take care of the situation yourself –"

"No! I would never do that! I was angry with Danielle, but I would never kill anyone over this! I am not a murderer! Besides, I had no proof that anything was going on. That's why I arrived a little early this afternoon, to see if I could catch them in the act. But Mrs. Pritchard found him dead before I even made it to the classroom!"

"So you won't mind if we test your hands for gunshot residue," Sara asked.

"Go ahead," Mrs. Taylor cried, "You won't find anything, so go ahead." She shoved her hands out. Grissom sprayed them, and nothing happened.

"Alright, Mrs. Taylor, it looks like you haven't shot any guns today. At least, not before you could go wash your hands. You are free to go for now." Grissom walked her to the door. Sara looked at him.

"This is weird," she said, "That girl having sex with her teacher would be like, well, me having sex with you or something."

Grissom looked at her, puzzled. "Oh great," she though, "I can't believe I just said that. He probably thinks I've been fantasizing about him or something. Or worse, he could think I find him repulsive! No! That's not what I want!"

"Not that having sex with you would be gross or weird or something. I don't mean it like that," she stopped herself. She was saying too much. Why couldn't she just shut up and let it go? He was so much better with words than she was. And if he had any feelings, he was better at controlling them. Sara had been a mess recently, and blurting out inappropriate comments to her boss was something she didn't used to do. Luckily, their strange conversation was interrupted by Greg, who barged into the room.

"Hey guys, what's shakin'?" he said, winking at Sara and giving her a big grin.

"Hey Greg, we just finished talking to Mrs. Taylor. She doesn't have any GSR on her hands, but that doesn't rule her out quite yet. She could have washed her hands since the murder. But my suspicion is falling on the Danielle. Something isn't right there, and I don't quite know what it is."

"Well, maybe this will be some good news for you. The police searched the trashcans at the school looking for the gun, thinking the murderer might have stashed it in the trash in order to avoid being caught. They didn't find a gun, but they did find two freshly used condoms, one in the upstairs girl's restroom and one in the downstairs boy's restroom. In a normal high school bathroom this might be overlooked, but considering the sexual nature of our two suspects, I knew it might be of interest. DNA is processing the condoms and comparing them with swabs from out two suspects and the victims right now."

"Two condoms in such different locations? That does sound a little fishy. Maybe we can find out exactly what's been going on between Danielle and Mr. Mason," Grissom pointed out. He got up and walked out of the examining room to go get a cup of coffee. Sara and Greg were hot on his toes.


End file.
